


A Heart Full of Joy

by VesperLogan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Evil Lucius Malfoy, Hogwarts First Year, Internal Conflict, Slytherin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:09:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27383974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VesperLogan/pseuds/VesperLogan
Summary: Astera Lestrange is not your average pureblood. As the daughter of Rodolphus Lestrange, but brought up by the Malfoy family, Astera is excited when she receives her letter to Hogwarts and can escape Lucius' clutches. Yet, as the school term commences, Astera realises that having a name such as Lestrange leaves a mark, no matter who you are inside. Ridiculed by the Slytherins and feared by the rest of the school, Astera is left with the ultimate decision - who's side is she on?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. I'm Not That Girl

It was a bright and sunny day in Diagon Alley and the narrow, cobbled streets thronged with witches and wizards of all ages. Excited chatter filled the air as children crowded round shop windows, pointing eagerly at the brightly vibrant displays whilst their parents desperately tried to drag them away to continue their shopping.

But not one family. In the midst of all the chaos, three slender figures made their way silently through the crowd. The taller one, a woman, was dressed in a set of dark purple robes, trimmed with black velvet. Her pale blonde hair shone in the sun under a small black velvet hat, adorned with a short peacock feather, and her head was held up high, showing off a delicate jawline with rather pointed facial features.

Of the two smaller figures, one was like his mother – a head of blonde hair, completely slicked back and a walk that screamed confidence and superiority. The other, however, was slightly shorter. With long, wavy hair the colour of dark chocolate, Astera Lestrange looked nothing like her guardians, the Malfoys. Instead, her looks came entirely from her father, Rodolphus. Her mother, she didn't know anything about. She had never even seen a photograph.

"Astera, dear, do try and keep up," Narcissa called out to her, despair clear in her voice as she cut through the eleven year old's thoughts.

"Yes, Narcissa," the girl replied and obediently sped up to where the woman and her son had stopped outside Ollivander's old wand shop.

"You'll have plenty of time to look round later," the blonde lady continued. "Let's get the things you need first." She looked up at the peeling old letters above her. "Ollivander's… we'll start here then."

She pushed open the door and the small bell tinkled lightly as the three walked through, alerting the owner of their presence.

The shop was filthy. Long slim boxes covered every wall, faded and so dusty that the labels on them were unreadable. There was one old, dark wooden counter a few metres into the shop, also piled with the same sort of boxes. The only clear space was an area padded with dark green leather, presumably only left so Ollivander could speak to his customers.

Astera looked at Draco next to her; he did not look impressed. She herself however, was incredibly excited. She'd been looking forward to this moment for as long as she could remember. Just the thought of being able to use a wand herself, instead of watching Narcissa or Lucius, had her feeling overwhelmingly happy.

"Ah, hello, here to buy your first wands?"

Astera blinked at the soft voice and looked up to see an old man with wide, silvery eyes smiling down at her. She gave a weak, shy smile back as Narcissa answered for them.

"How's your wand, Mrs Malfoy? Hawthorne and phoenix feather, isn’t it?" the man went on to ask, switching his gaze to Narcissa.

"It's still working perfectly, thank you."

"Well, I'm glad. So many wands are not properly looked after these days," Ollivander said sadly. "Now, I think we'll start with you, Master Malfoy. Hold out your wand arm please."  
Draco stuck out his right arm, looking around the shop in a way that was clear to Astera that he was bored.

"Ah, let's try this. Hawthorne and Unicorn Hair. 10 inches. Nice and bendy. Give it a wave."

As the boy took it, a soft glow formed around him and red sparks were issued from the tip, crackling loudly.

"Ah, the same wood as your mother, how curious. Hawthorne wands tend to pick those who are internally conflicted, but also possess a talent." Ollivander paused, looking closely at Draco. "I must warn you. Hawthorne wands can backfire badly if not treated correctly. Look after it well."  
The young boy rolled his eyes, but nodded, promptly handing the wand over to his mother. The old man turned to Astera.

"Now, who might you be?" he asked, his pale eyes twinkling unnervingly.

The girl stood up straighter as she spoke, just like the Malfoys had always taught her. One with a pureblood name such as Lestrange should be proud of it, they'd said. Only, Astera wasn't proud of it. Her father and his wife had besmirched the name after torturing the Longbottoms into insanity. That was something she couldn't possibly be proud of.

"Ah, I see, I remember your father's wand. Elm, it was, elm and unicorn hair. Twelve inches. No doubt that he's no longer in possession of it. Now, wand arm out please."

Astera placed out her left arm and watched in fascination as the tape measure unrolled itself once more, having to bite her lip to stop her giggles as it occasionally brushed her arm, making it tickle.

"Hmm… " Ollivander studied the measurements carefully. "I think we'll try this one first," he decided, picking one from the top of the pile on the desk. "Beech and unicorn hair. Ten and a half inches. Very supple, that one, brilliant for charm work."

Astera gave it a quick wave and gasped when a lamp above them shattered, glass raining down on them until Narcissa quickly whipped out her wand, turning it into harmless sand as it reached them.

"Sorry!" she squeaked, carefully placing the wand back on the desk.

"Not that one then." Ollivander went back to his shelves. "How about this one? Rowan and phoenix feather. Twelve inches."

He handed her over a pale brown wand with a plump handle stained a darker brown. She gave that one a wave too. A pile of books shot off the shelf opposite her.

"Clearly not," the old man stated as Astera also placed that one back onto the leather counter.

He walked off again, this time further back into the shop. The girl watched as he pondered a moment before climbing up the nearest ladder and pulling out a worn box from the top shelf.

"Third time lucky, eh?" he said as he placed the box on the desk. "Try this one, red oak and dragon heartstring. Nine and a quarter inches. Relatively swishy, great for duelling and charm work."

As Astera took the wand, she felt a friendly warmth fill her, it was almost the magic was humming through her veins. Sparks erupted from the tip of the dark red wand.

"Ah, so it is you who is destined for this. That wand is one of the few that has lived in this shop for as long as I can remember... but never did I think it would make a first wand." He looked at the girl sternly. "Red oak is rare and can make an extremely sensitive wand. If it is not used correctly then the effects could be astronomical. You must promise me that you will never use it without thinking first."

His cool blue orbs bored into Astera as she stared back at him, eyes wide in alarm.

"Yes, I promise, sir," she answered shakily. Why couldn't an ordinary, safe wand have picked her? Why did she always have to be the awkward one? The one that didn't fit.  
Seemingly satisfied with the girl's answer, Ollivander boxed the two wands back up again as Narcissa counted out the money to pay for them.

"Remember, be careful with both of those wands," Ollivander warned again as they turned to leave. Draco just rolled his eyes and walked back out into the busy street, but Astera turned back and gave the old man a small reassuring smile before following Narcissa out of the door.

"Who did that old man think he was talking to?" Draco exclaimed rudely as soon as the door had clicked shut. "I don't need to be lectured about wands, I've lived with magic my entire life!"

"He was just trying to warn you, Draco," Astera put in. "He knows a lot more about wands than we do. Surely we should listen to him?"

Draco opened his mouth to retort back, but his mother spoke before he could get any words out. Secretly, the girl was glad. She hated dealing with Draco in this mood.

"Flourish and Blotts next?" she asked. "Then we can meet your father at Fortescue's before we get your potions equipment and robes, yes?"

"Sounds great, mother," Draco said, but it was clear from his tone that he didn't mean it.

Astera sighed, knowing what this meant. They wouldn't be staying at the bookshop for very long if precious little Draco was in such a bad mood. It never mattered if Astera wanted something different; she wasn't their daughter.

As the three walked into the store, they were met with the rich smell of parchment and leather – Astera's favourite smell.

"What are you smiling at?" Draco's haughty voice interrupted. She turned to him angrily, suddenly fed up with his foul mood. 

"I wouldn't expect you to understand," she sniped, but as her eyes clashed with his, she faltered, as she did every time she caught his gaze. A pang of sadness hit her. 

You see, Draco hadn't always been so rude. In fact, when they were younger, the boy had always protected Astera.

Over the course of their childhood, they had been tutored in wizard history, reading, writing, languages and flying, and, to make the money worthwhile, all the local purebloods had been tutored together. However, unfortunately for Astera, that had resulted in a class full of boys and, being the smallest, she was an easy target. They would tease and threaten her relentlessly, crowding her and throwing insults during the breaks until she ran out of the room crying.

Draco, obviously, had been part of the class. However, he'd never taken part in the bullying and had always come and found her afterwards, comforting her and wiping away her tears. When he'd been able to, he'd put a stop to the bullying before it could get too far, but Astera grew to understand that he couldn't do this every time for the sake of his family's reputation and respect. 'For a Malfoy to become a victim of bullying was unacceptable' Lucius had told Draco one dinnertime when he'd tried to tell his parents about Astera's problem.

It soon became clear to the young witch that she was not as important in the Malfoy family; as long as their precious son wasn't being bullied, the boys could continue with their insults and cruel teasing. And even though the problem had never been solved, Draco had become the girl's knight in shining armour; someone she looked up to and adored. 

However, the tutoring, and therefore the bullying, stopped when they were eight years old, and the following three years had changed Draco dramatically. He started spending more time with his gang of pureblood mates and less time with Astera, often staying days at a time with the Crabbe and Goyle families. Meanwhile, Astera remained at home with Narcissa and learnt the pureblood etiquette. Originally, she had visited the Greengrass family in an attempt to integrate herself into the world of pureblood ladies, but it didn't take her long to realise that she didn't fit in with the high-pitched giggling and the talk of marrying a rich pureblood at a princess-like wedding that their three daughters were into. She found it ridiculous and tiresome, and so the play dates stopped soon after they had begun.

They were currently at the stage where Draco was brushing off any attempt by Astera to spend more time together, or even just to have a conversation, and as a result, the two had slowly drifted apart. More than often, the boy snapped at her for being annoying and told her to leave him alone, and yet none of this stopped the fact she still wanted to be friends with him. No matter how many times she wished that the feeling would just go away, that he was horrible and she deserved to be friends with someone who would respect her, it refused to give up its tight grip on her. Eventually, she'd just learned to hide it, talking back to him in the same manner he spoke to her.

However, right now Narcissa was having none of it.

"Enough, Astera!" the witch's voice cut in to her thoughts. "That is no way for a pureblood lady to speak to a young man. Apologise, now."

The girl had to refrain herself from rolling her eyes and angering Narcissa any further as Draco smirked at her from behind his mother.

"I apologise, Draco," she said testily, before spinning round on her heel and stalking off into the shop. She didn't care that they were supposed to be buying the books together; she already knew what she needed to buy, having studied the list many times since she'd received it several days previously. She just wanted to get away from them before she said or did something she knew she would be sorely made to regret.

Collecting all the books as quickly as she could, the young witch headed to the non-fiction and spells section. If she was lucky, it would take Draco and Narcissa a lot longer than her to find the books they needed.

Brushing her fingertips over the rough leather spines, Astera scanned over the titles, looking for one book in particular. Hogwarts: A History by Bathilda Bagshot. If she was going to go, she wanted to know as much about it as possible and, as Draco had ripped up the Malfoy's copy as a toddler, the family no longer owned one.

Finally, in among the Bs, she spotted it, one single copy left. Pulling it out, she scanned through it quickly, balancing the rest of the books awkwardly under one arm.

"Are you done, Astera?" Narcissa's voice interrupted. The girl looked up to see the slender woman walking up the aisle towards her, Draco's books shoved under one arm. The boy himself was a few strides behind, arms crossed grumpily.

"Yes," Astera replied, clutching the copy of Hogwarts: A History tightly. She swallowed, trying to work up some courage. "Is… is it possible we could buy this too please?" she asked tentatively. It wasn't often that she asked the Malfoys for something, but as she wasn't their daughter, she always found it awkward. They had always made it very clear that Astera was not their own child, or, in fact, any relation at all.

"What is it?" Narcissa tore the book from the girl's grasp, flipping it over to read the title. "Ah, yes, this would be useful for you too, Draco," she said, tucking it under her arm with the rest of her son's books.

Draco was clearly not interested in the prospect a new book. "Mother, can we just go?" he whined. "I'm hungry."

"Yes, of course, dear," the woman smiled fondly at her son before turning to Astera. "Hand me those books and I'll go and pay whilst you and Draco find Lucius."

"Yes, Narcissa," the girl replied, dutifully trying not to sound as annoyed as she was. She hated it when Draco used his mother's love for him to get what he wanted. He was rarely denied anything. The boy had already started to walk away by the time Astera had handed over her books to Narcissa, meaning the girl had to run to catch up with him.

"I don't understand why someone would willingly spend time in that shop," Draco said haughtily as they walked down the street. Astera had to curl her hands into fists to stop her from retorting back. But then he continued. "Why would someone want to spend time in there when they could visit somewhere like Quidditch Supplies instead?"

"Draco, no," the girl said firmly, knowing full well his intention and immediately making her anger dissipate into something more like worry. One thing she hated worse than Draco's complete disregard with other people's opinions was getting on the wrong side of his parents. "Your mother said to find your father, not go wandering off."

The boy rolled his eyes. "You're such a goody-two-shoes, Astera. No one is going to care if we go via the Quidditch Store!"

"Draco, please, you'll get us into trouble!" Astera begged, but as usual, he ignored her.

"I'm going. You can come if you want; I don't care either way." With that, he stormed off.

Sighing, Astera knew that she had to follow him. To get to Lucius before Draco would only get her into more trouble than actually staying with him.

"Draco, wait!" she called out and once more, ran after him.


	2. Losing My Mind

"Look it's the new Nimbus 2000!" Draco cried out as they reached the store. "I hope Father will buy me one of these for getting into Slytherin. My Comet Two-Sixty is getting old now."

Astera rolled her eyes. "You've only had that broomstick six months, how is it old? And anyway, you haven't even got into Slytherin yet. You might end up in Hufflepuff for all you know!"

Draco turned angrily. "I will not end up in that wuss of a house! I'm not soft like you," he sneered. "My family has always been in Slytherin for as long as it has been recorded, and so has yours for that matter. You're more likely to end up disgracing the family name than I am!"

"It still doesn't mean your father will buy you that broom, the one you have is fine!"

"Oh yeah, I forgot, you're a girl. Girls don't understand broomsticks," the boy sniped before turning and walking haughtily into the shop, leaving Astera to follow him.

Although she was not massively into Quidditch like Draco, she still enjoyed it and absolutely loved to fly. She had Draco's old broom, a Cleansweep that was now a few years out of date, but she didn't care. To her, flying was freedom, a chance to get away and not have to think about pureblood etiquette and how to act like a lady. In the sky, it didn't matter what she did, what she said, as there was no one else to see or hear her.

As she thought, she wandered over to the stacks of leather Quidditch gloves, dyed nearly every colour imaginable. She'd always wondered why someone would want a pair of gloves stained a mix between a dull grey and pale brown or a bright, putrid orange, but she supposed that there must be someone somewhere who had bought them as otherwise they wouldn't be on the market.

She gave Draco a few minutes longer before her anxiety won over and she went to find him, ready to insist on leaving straight away. As usual, it took a bit of persuading.

"Draco, please! Your parents are going to be furious if we don't leave now!" Astera tried. And, obviously, it will somehow be my fault, she added sullenly, although she didn't voice this out loud.

The boy turned to her and glared. "For goodness sake! If you're going to moan all the time, we might as well go now. You ruin everything."

Astera rolled her eyes, hiding the fact his words had stung. Any insult Draco threw her way stung, they always had done. "Do you always have to be such a drama queen? I'm only trying to stop us from getting into trouble."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, let's just go! And, for your information, I am NOT a drama queen."

"Yeah right," Astera muttered, and earned herself another glare from Draco's direction.

As they arrived at Fortescue's, Astera spotted Narcissa and Lucius straight away. Two straight-backed blonds stuck out easily in the ice cream parlour full of happy, laughing families.

"And just where have you two been? I thought I told you to come straight here?" Narcissa's sharp voice snapped at them as they approached the table.

Astera didn't say anything, hoping that Draco would answer. When he didn't say anything either, the young witch stared at the ground, suddenly finding the sparkling black marble tiles more fascinating than they should have been.

"Well? Your mother asked you a question, are you not going to answer her?" Lucius asked, an eyebrow raised.

There was another moment's silence.

"Astera? Would you care to explain?"

Wincing, the girl looked at Draco, but he cruelly turned his gaze away, leaving Astera stuttering as she tried to think of an excuse that would get them both out of trouble.

"Well? We're all waiting, Astera." Lucius's cold tone had the witch shakily turning her gaze to his.

"I… Uh… Draco, he wanted a quick look in Quidditch Supplies, so we went in there for a bit," she tried to explain. "I'm sorry, I didn't think a few minutes would hurt anyone…"

"And what if something had happened? We wouldn't have known where you were!" Lucius snapped, eyes furious as Astera lowered her head. "You should be more responsible, you're quite a few months older than Draco and there you are, leading him into potential danger! Think what you're doing, girl!"

"I'm sorry, Sir," Astera said quietly, knowing that any attempt to give an excuse would only get her into more trouble.

But Lucius wasn't finished yet.

"Well, since you have arrived so late, we no longer have time to stop for an ice cream. Astera, you will take Draco straight to Madam Malkin's whilst Narcissa and I collect your other supplies. Absolutely no detours, am I clear?"

"Yes, Sir."

There was another moment's silence before Lucius cleared his throat noisily. "Well, are you going to going to go with Draco or just stand there, staring at the floor all day?"

Biting her lip to stop the tears already welling in her eyes, the girl barely glanced at her guardians as she scurried out of the shop after Draco and into the warm sunshine.

As she made her way towards Madam Malkin's, the scolding from her guardians refused to remove itself from her mind. Why did they always pick on her? It wasn't her fault that their son had wanted to visit Quidditch Supplies. She may be older by nine months or so, but that didn't mean she had any authority over him. In fact, he was always the one in charge seeing as though Astera wasn't technically part of the Malfoy family. And why hadn't Draco helped her out? They always used to stick together when they were younger. He knew how much his parents hated her. Apparently not any more.

When she arrived at the shop, Draco was already in the back, stood on a stool and waiting for someone to measure him. His striking grey eyes were staring round the shop, his mouth twisted into a scowl of impatience.

"Ah, Hogwarts too, dear?"

Astera jumped at the woman's voice and moved to the side as an older lady with greying hair bustled past, arms full of black cloth as she looked back expectantly over her shoulder at the startled girl.

"Yes."

"Well, step up onto the stool beside this young man then and we'll see what we can do."

The woman, Madam Malkin, turned to Draco. "Could you just slip this over your head for me, dear, whilst I fetch a robe for your friend here?"

Draco obliged, taking the black cloth from the woman and putting it on. It fell way below the bottom of the stool, pooling onto the ground.

"It's quite exciting, isn't it?" Astera tried to smile. Anything to stop the tense silence.

"What, buying robes? We've done that many times," Draco grumbled.

"I don't mean ordinary robes, I mean Hogwarts robes! I can't believe that we're finally old enough to go."

"Yeah, I suppose so," Draco shrugged. "I'd much rather play Quidditch all day than sit in a stuffy classroom though."

Astera had had enough. "What is it with you at the moment?!" she snapped. "Why can't you take an interest in anything I say anymore? You used to be so excited by the prospect of going to Hogwarts and now… well, now all you do is shrug."

The girl had to force herself not to roll her eyes as Draco did exactly what she'd just said: he shrugged. At that point Madam Malkin came hurrying back, her arms once again full of dark fabric.

"Here, just put this on and I'll fetch Jenny to help this young man. I'll be with you as soon as I can," the woman instructed, looking rather flustered and dumped the robes into Astera's arms before bustling off once more, shouting for her assistant.

"I'm not entirely impressed with this service," Draco commented as the two stood waiting on the stools. "I might ask Mother if next time we can go to Twilfit and Tattings. They should be more organised. After all, there is no one else in the shop, so why are we waiting?"

"Give them a chance, Draco," Astera sighed as a young woman hurried towards them, a few tendrils of her blonde curls having escaped her ponytail and were flying loosely around her flushed face.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. It's been very busy today with all the Hogwarts letters having arrived," she explained.

"That's completely understandable," Astera replied quickly, shooting Draco a look that clearly read 'don't say a word'.

"Now, I believe you were first?" Jenny asked, turning to Draco. He nodded and the woman bent down to pin up the bottom of the robe. "First years, I presume?" she continued.

"Yes," Astera answered, glancing at Draco, whose mouth was pulled into one of his 'famous' sneers. "Did you go to Hogwarts?" she added.

Jenny was saved from answering as Madam Malkin's voice announced that someone was about to join them. Sure enough, a moment later, a boy with rather scruffy black hair, round glasses and bright green eyes approached them nervously. As the young woman instructed him to step next to Astera, Draco spoke.

"Hello," he said. "Hogwarts too?"

Astera nearly fell off her stool in shock at his polite tone. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Draco smirk at her.

"Yes," the boy replied, albeit hesitantly.

"My mother and father are up the street collecting our supplies." He indicated to Astera. "Then, I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first-years can't have their own. I think I'll just bully my father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

Astera sent the boy an apologetic look, but before she could even open her mouth, Draco continued.

"Have you got your own broom?"

"No," the boy replied, looking down awkwardly at Madam Malkin fitting his robe. Draco didn't seem to notice.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," the boy said, yet again, his brow now crinkled in confusion. Still, Draco didn't take this in.

"I do – Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No."

Again, Astera went to intervene, the boy's uncomfortableness becoming painfully apparent. However, yet again, Draco got their first.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all my family have been – imagine being in Hufflepuff. I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Mmm," was all the boy said.

"There's nothing wrong with Hufflepuff!" Astera protested, but the blond-haired boy's attention had already switched to someone at the front of the shop.

"I say, look at that man!" he exclaimed, pointing at a huge man with a head of long, frizzy black hair holding two dripping ice creams, his hands easily bigger than the cones themselves.

"That's Hagrid. He works at Hogwarts."

Astera's gaze switched back to the boy who had just spoken. He knew the giant?

Then, Draco put his foot in it. "Oh, I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"

Astera's gaze now span to the boy the other side of her. She gaped at him, uttering his name. Draco ignored her.

"He's the Gamekeeper," their new friend answered, unable to keep the clear dislike out of his voice.

"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage – lives in a hut in the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic and ends up setting fire to his bed," Draco smirked, making Astera wince.

"I think he's brilliant," the other boy said coldly.

It seemed at this point, Draco finally caught on to the boy's feelings. "Do you?" he said with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," the boy replied shortly.

"I'm so sorry," Astera gasped and then nudged Draco when he didn't say anything, shocked that he wasn't being more sympathetic.

"Oh, sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all. “But they were our kind, weren't they?"

"Draco!" Astera hissed. "I'm sorry about him," she added, turning to the dark-haired boy.

"It's alright," the young wizard smiled at her. Then, he turned to Draco. "They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine! I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname anyway?"

However, before the boy could answer, Madam Malkin spoke. "That's you done, my dear." She smiled and the boy moved away quickly, clearly eager to get away from Draco's interrogation.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," Draco called after him, but the boy didn't reply. Instead, Draco turned to Astera. "Well, that was rather rude," he commented.

"I think he found you rather rude to be honest," Astera told him quietly.

The boy's eyes widened. "Me? What did I do? I was only asking him about school. You were the one that said I wasn't interested enough in going!"

"Yeah, but he clearly had no idea what you were talking about!" the young witch retorted. She didn't understand how he couldn't realise how rude he was being.

"But he had a witch and wizard for parents!"

"Doesn't mean he was brought up in the wizarding world. His parents are dead, remember?"

Draco was about to retort back when Jenny cleared her throat. Both children looked at her. "You're done, Master Malfoy. If I could ask you to step over there and wait for Madam Malkin whilst I measure up your sister here."

"She's not my sister, she's a Lestrange," Draco corrected before stalking away.

Jenny looked up at her, alarm written across her features. "I'm so sorry, Miss Lestrange. I do hope I haven't offended you," she babbled nervously.

"No, of course you haven't!" Astera said kindly, trying to smile at the young woman. In truth, she would prefer to be thought of as a Malfoy than a Lestrange, she thought, and that was saying something. "Please ignore Draco, he just likes to make people uncomfortable."

However, she got no reply as Jenny hurriedly turned back to her work, avoiding eye contact. Draco letting slip her real name had clearly unnerved her.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, the woman told her she was done and Astera quickly hopped off the stool, thanking her before heading over to where Draco and Narcissa stood waiting.

"Why did you have to tell her I was a Lestrange?" she demanded of Draco as soon as she reached them. "She was too scared to say a word to me after that!"

"Astera, you should be proud that your name has such an effect," Narcissa scolded, and then indicated for her to take her new robe off so she could pay for it. "Your family were well-respected Purebloods."

"Until they ruined it," she muttered under her breath. Although Narcissa didn't hear, Draco did and he glared at her.

"You be careful what you say," he hissed quietly. "That's my Aunt you're talking about."

"I don't care! If it hadn't been for your Aunt, I would have most probably been brought up by my own father! After all, it was her idea, wasn't it?" She went to turn away, tears welling in her eyes. However, before she could, Draco's hand shot out and gripped her arm tightly, yanking her back to face him. She struggled to free herself, but his grip only tightened, causing her to wince.

"You stop that right now!" he whispered fiercely in her ear. "You know Father has forbidden you from talking about this at all, let alone in public, so just stop. Before Mother hears you." He pulled back to look into her eyes. "Or have you forgotten that you're talking about her sister?"

Astera didn't reply, Draco's stormy eyes threatening something more if she said another word. He narrowed his eyes one more time before turning to his mother. Astera immediately turned away, nursing the arm that was sure to have a bruise the next morning.

"Right, are we ready?" Narcissa asked, apparently not having noticed anything was wrong. "We're meeting Father outside of the Owl Emporium."

"Why the Owl Emporium, Mother?" Draco questioned.

"We'll have to see, won't we?" Narcissa smiled fondly, placing an arm around her son's shoulders.

Astera rolled her eyes, not looking at either of them. How could Draco be so mean? Why could he never see it from her side? And now, now she had to go and watch him get another treat, judging by the look in Narcissa's eye. Probably for getting into Hogwarts. Any excuse to treat their precious boy.

"Quickly Astera, we don't have all day," Narcissa snapped as they ducked back into the busy crowd, she and her son navigating their way with ease as Astera struggled behind them, not having the typical 'Malfoy grace'.

When she finally spotted Lucius resting rather impatiently against his cane, she was somewhat glad to be out the crowd that seemed to be growing busier and busier every minute. Beside him stood their shopping and two rather large metal cages.

"Astera!"

Narcissa's sharp tone had the girl quickly fighting her way out of the crowd and hurrying over. She'd angered them enough today already.

"Draco, your mother and I wished to get you something for getting into Hogwarts," Lucius said. "As you know, there is a tradition whereby a parent buys their child an owl when they start Hogwarts, so we paid a visit to the Owl Emporium."

"Thank you Father, Mother," the boy said, really not sounding that grateful at all. Astera knew why. He'd wanted a new racing broom, not an owl.

Lucius passed the first cage to Draco. Inside perched a gorgeous Eagle Owl, a plumage of rich brown to match the two bright yellow eyes peeking out from the bars.

"He's stunning, Draco!" Astera said, reaching out a hand to stroke the bird through the bars.

"Yes, and he's mine, so don't touch him!" Draco snapped, pulling the cage away from the girl's reach.

"Astera," Narcissa said, bringing her attention away from the scowling Draco. "Your father wished for you also to get an owl. He had some extra money transferred to our vault last Christmas, so here you are."

She plucked the other, slightly smaller cage from the ground and handed it to her. Inside was a rather small, scruffy-looking owl. It squawked excitedly as Astera let her finger brush the back of its head through the bars. She knew that the scruffiness was meant to be a dig by the Malfoys to bring up the fact she didn't have parents to buy the best-looking owl for her, but she didn't care. She was used to it by now. Anyway, the one in front of her was perfect. The grey fluff instead of sleek feathers only served to add to the bird's cuteness in Astera's eyes. What did it matter that it wasn't as handsome as Draco's owl? It was still hers; her own owl to look after and care for. That was more than she could have hoped for, even if it wasn't the most gorgeous of birds she had seen.

“Thank you,” she said, beaming happily. On getting no form of reply from her guardians, her smile dropped slightly. However, she swallowed the disappointment and helped to pick up a few of their purchases with her spare hand. She had an owl, she wasn’t about to let the Malfoys spoil that for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, chapter 2 - hope you enjoyed! As ever, any comments on my work are greatly appreciated!  
> Also, there is a theme with the chapter titles - if anyone can tell guess what it is then I'd be impressed!  
> 'Til next time :)


	3. So Long, Farewell

The day had arrived. The day they were due to leave for Hogwarts. Astera had been up for hours packing and re-packing her heavy trunk. Should she put the robes on top so they were easy to get to when she needed to change? Or should she put them nearer the bottom so they wouldn’t end up smelling like the food the house elves were currently preparing for her? In the end, after switching it round three times, she decided to place the robes on one side of the trunk and the food on the other side with a layer of books in the middle.

Sitting back, Astera smiled, happy that it was done, and reached out to feed her new owl a treat. She’d called him Farren, an old English name referring to the colour of his feathers. He seemed to have taken to her as quickly as she had taken to him, giving her hand an affectionate nip as she stroked it over his head.

Just as she got up to squash down the lid of her bulging trunk, a small hand tapped her on the shoulder.

“Miss Astera?” a loud voice squeaked in her ear.

Astera immediately jumped up in fright. “Dobby!” she admonished. “I told you not to sneak up on me like that!”

“Dobby is very sorry for startling you, Miss,” the elf said, hanging his head. “But Dobby knocked on the door three times and Miss didn’t hear. Dobby will punish himself.”

To the girl’s horror, the small elf went to pick up the heavy silver candlestick on the mantelpiece.

“No Dobby!” she cried out and quickly snatched it away from him, placing it back where it came from. “That won’t be necessary! I’m sorry I snapped. What did you want?” 

“Dobby has come to tell Miss that Mistress wants you to come down for breakfast.”

“Oh okay, I’ll be down in just a minute. Thank you,” she smiled.

Dobby responded with a quick grin before giving a small bow and clicking his fingers, disappearing with a loud crack.

Sighing, Astera quickly checked her appearance in the mirror, woe betide she had a hair out of place, before heading down to the dining room.

The Malfoy family were already there as she entered the room. Lucius was sitting at the head of the table, his cane resting proudly against his chair, with Draco on his right and Narcissa on his left. However, as she walked into the room, all three turned their heads to look at her.

“Late, as usual,” Lucius commented, not looking up from where he was reading the Daily Prophet.

“Sorry Sir, I was just finishing packing and lost track of time. I won’t let it happen again.”

Lucius let out a short bark of laughter and lowered his newspaper, the trademark piercing grey eyes of the Malfoy family glittering at her with cold amusement. “You’d better not. If you let it happen at Hogwarts, you’ll go without food. Slytherins don’t wait for anybody.”

Astera looked down and moved towards the empty seat next to Narcissa. No one said anything more as she sat down and reached out to fill her empty plate.

The clinking of cutlery against china plates was all that could be heard as the family ate their food in silence. Astera wished she could express how excited she was about attending Hogwarts, but she knew Draco and his father would only make some scathing remark at her expense if she did.

“Are you nearly packed, Astera?” Narcissa asked finally, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

“Yes,” the girl answered, pausing to shovel the last of her egg into her mouth. “I only need to pack a couple more things, I’ll be ready for whenever you want to leave.”

“We will be leaving at quarter to eleven,” Lucius interrupted, glaring at the young witch as though she was already running late. “Astera, you will be apparating with Narcissa and Draco with myself.”

“Then please may I be excused?” Astera asked, having had enough of her guardian’s accusing glares.

“Yes, but do not be late,” Lucius warned.

“I won’t be,” Astera assured him before slipping out of her chair and escaping the room as quickly as possible.

Once back in her room, she let her excitement take over again as she looked around her now rather bare room. She would soon be out of Malfoy Manor, out of the way of Lucius’s cruel temper and scathing remarks. At least until Christmas anyway.

Cleaning her teeth and picking up her washbag, Astera packed the last few bits into her trunk, including the neat package of food that had been left on her bed, and forced the lid shut, securing the clasps on the side. Then, grabbing hold of the handle, she tried to drag it out of her room, just about reaching the top of the stairs before a voice stopped her.

“Why didn’t you summon Dobby to carry that, you foolish girl?” Lucius demanded.

“If _I’m_ struggling, how could _Dobby_ manage? You said he wasn’t allowed to use the floating spell in this house after he dropped that trunk on your foot last year,” Astera protested.

“He’s a servant, Astera. That’s what he’s there for,” Lucius replied curtly before calling for the house elf.

Dobby appeared instantly. “Master called Dobby?”

“Take this trunk downstairs, and _don’t_ drop it,” Lucius ordered.

The elf complied at once and Astera winced when his tiny feet skidded against the floor as he struggled to even pull it an inch. She continued to watch with bated breath as Dobby slowly made his way down the stairs.

It was about half way down when it grew too much for the little elf. With a small cry, he tripped and the suitcase went crashing down over him. Astera let out a gasp and covered her eyes. She’d known this wasn’t going to end well.

However, she peeked out a few seconds later when the crashing didn’t continue. Next to her, Lucius had flicked his wand and stopped the trunk and it was now lazily floating down to land gently on the rug at the bottom.

Dobby stood up shakily from where he had fallen, glancing up at Lucius with his large orb-like eyes.

“What did I just tell you?” Lucius spat at him, his fingers flexing on his cane.

The elf trembled in fear. “Dobby is sorry, Master. Dobby will go and iron his hands as punishment.”

Astera winced and looked up at Lucius. How could he let anyone do that as punishment? It was cruel and uncalled for, given the circumstances. But the man’s were cold and hard as he stared down at the elf.

With one last glance at Astera, Dobby scurried away, leaving her and Lucius stood at the top of the stairwell. Not even looking the girl, the wizard moved his cane, indicating for Astera to go down first, and, swallowing nervously, she did as she was bade, all the while aware that Lucius was watching her every movement.

“Right then, are we all ready?” Lucius asked once they had all gathered in the hallway.

“Yes, father,” Draco responded, gripping his trunk with one hand and his father’s arm with the other.

“Then we will see you there, Narcissa,” the man drawled, ignoring Astera completely.

The two disappeared in a swirl of dark mist and Astera tensed, waiting for the familiar tug of nausea that came with side-along apparation.

“Hold on tight,” Narcissa warned before their surroundings disappeared in a blur.

When everything cleared, they were stood in a bustling platform, next to where a gleaming scarlet engine stood, the Hogwarts emblem blazoned on the front. Steam was billowing out of the funnel, indicating that the train would be moving very shortly.

“Wow,” Astera whispered, gazing in awe at her surroundings.

“Keep moving,” Narcissa hissed in her ear, taking her arm in a harsh grip and dragging her along. “We need to find Lucius and Draco.”

The crowds seemed to move apart as the older witch led the way down the platform and Astera tried not to stumble as she was dragged along, her heavy trunk constantly trying to pull her back.

Draco was already stood talking to Crabbe and Goyle by the time Narcissa and Astera found them. Lucius was stood tall, surveying the people around him with a look of distaste gracing his features.

“Narcissa dear,” he greeted as his wife went to stand next to him, giving him a gentle peck on the cheek. He didn’t even spare Astera a glance, as the two went over to say their farewells to Draco.

“Goodbye then,” Astera said after them, and dragged her trunk towards the nearest carriage.

Stepping up onto the train, she tried to pull the heavy suitcase up behind her, but no matter how hard she pulled, she could not get it up the step.

“Do you need help here?” a friendly voice asked.

“I believe she does need some help, Fred,” another voice intervened.

“Come on then, help me before the train leaves without us,” the first voice said.

Before Astera could say anything, the two boys, twins, took a bottom corner each and, with one push, heaved the trunk up and into the carriage.

“Thank you,” Astera said.

“No problem,” one of the twins replied, flashing her a cheeky grin. “I’m George by the way.”

“And I’m Fred,” the other one butted in.

“Well it’s nice to meet you both,” Astera smiled, not wanting to tell them her name. She knew who they were, the red hair gave it away. They were Weasleys.

“Well, I guess we’ll see you around then,” George smiled as they both jumped out of the carriage and started off down the platform.

“Yes, thanks again!” Astera called after them, before turning back and trying to pull her trunk out of the way of other students trying to board the train.

“Astera!” It was Draco’s voice from further down the carriage. “Hurry up!”

Rolling her eyes, Astera said “I’m coming,” before attempting to follow him.

Once she’d reached Draco’s compartment, she hesitated, realising that he was sat with a few of their childhood friends. Or rather, Draco’s friends, and her tormentors. Crabbe and Goyle were sat smirking at something Draco had said. Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass were also there, chattering in the corner along with another boy that Astera didn’t recognise. There was only one space left in the compartment, so she quickly went and stood by it, wondering how on earth she was going to lift her case up onto the rack.

“Do you need some help with your trunk there?” an unfamiliar voice asked.

Astera looked to her right in surprise. The boy sat there was looking up at her with a kind smile. She eyed him cautiously.

“I’m Theodore Nott by the way, although most people call me Theo,” he said as he stood up.

“I’m Astera, Astera Lestrange.”

“Oh yes, my father has mentioned your father a few times.” Astera looked at him in surprise. “I believe they were great friends back in the day. You live with the Malfoys right?” he continued, grabbing one end of her trunk. Astera grabbed the other end.

“Yes I do. Although I’m not sure they were too happy about it.” She looked over at Draco, who was scowling at them.

“Well us purebloods are not exactly well known for our affection,” he replied with a small wink. “Now, should we get this trunk up? On three?”

Astera smiled back and nodded.

“Alright then. One… two… three!”

The two attempted to lift the trunk, just about managing to heave it into the rack above them, sliding to the back with a large thud.

“Merlin, what have you got in there?” Theo laughed as the two sat down.

“Probably a collection of books to rival the Hogwarts library itself,” she chucked. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he smiled easily, giving her a knowing look as she retrieved the copy of Hogwarts: A History that she had snuck into her bag. He turned back to the conversation in the room, and Astera opened the book, hoping to avoid speaking to anybody else.

However, it didn’t take her long to be interrupted. In fact, she was only in the middle of the first chapter about the sky of the Great Hall when Draco spoke up.

“Reading again, are we Astera?” he drawled, smirking slightly.

The girl felt her cheeks heat up, but ignored him, not taking her gaze away from the page. She could feel all eyes on her as she stared at the words in front of her, but she didn’t give in. She was not about to be humiliated again.

Eventually Pansy broke the silence.

“Draco was talking to you, Astera,” she sniped in that high pitch, really irritating voice. “Are you just going to ignore him?”

Astera felt the heat of annoyance spark within her. She looked up slowly. “Well, I think it’s rather obvious that I’m reading, Pansy. And it is quite hard to do that when I’m constantly being interrupted.” She glared at the girl pointedly.

Pansy sneered but said nothing else, and after a few moments of awkward silence, the conversation started up again quietly, leaving Astera able to turn back to her book. She smirked to herself, pleased that she’d had the last word for once. Perhaps this would be the start of a new era. One where she wasn’t constantly beaten down.

Astera was about halfway through when she was next roused from the pages of her book by a jolt of the carriage. Looking up, she realised that Draco, Gregory and Vincent had all left the compartment.

Astera turned to Theo. “Where did Draco go?” she asked.

“Apparently Harry Potter is on the train. They’ve all gone to find him.”

Astera rolled her eyes. “Of course they have. No doubt Draco wants to befriend him just so he can say he’s friends with the Boy Who Lived.”

“Why are you so horrible to my Draco?” Pansy’s voice whined from the corner.

“Your Draco?” Theo scoffed.

Pansy sat up straighter and smirked. “Yes, we’ve basically been engaged since birth,” she said manner-of-factly. “Mother says that if we don’t end up married then she’ll eat her wand.”

Astera merely rolled her eyes.

“I’m sure Draco would be very lucky to have you, Pansy,” Theo said, a touch of amusement in his voice.

At that point they were saved from anymore of Pansy’s whiney voice as the door to the compartment was pushed roughly to the side and in stormed Draco himself, closely followed by the two bumbling idiots. He plonked himself down opposite Astera, eyes thundery and his lips curled into a scowl.

“Did you find him, Drakey?” Pansy asked in an attempt to gain his attention.

Draco’s scowl deepened. “Yes, but he has clearly taken after his mudblood mother. He’s made friends with a… a Weasley!” he spat out.

Astera couldn’t help the small grin that appeared on her face. Of course Draco was grumpy. He wouldn’t expect a pureblood and someone so famous to choose a Weasley over a Malfoy. His pride was hurt.

“What are you smiling at, Lestrange?” the boy almost snarled.

The grin dropped and there was a twinge in her chest at the use of her last name.

“Nothing Draco, just something in the book,” she managed, forcing out a small smile. Then added: “It’s getting dark, we must nearly be there. I’m going to go and change into my robes.”

Without waiting for a response, she stood up and reached for her trunk.

“Yeah, whatever, Miss Know-It-All,” Pansy sneered at her when Draco said nothing.

Astera merely rolled her eyes, pulling out her robes and walking out of the compartment in search of the toilets.

A few minutes later, the girl that stared back at her out of the mirror, dressed in the smart black gown of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was barely recognisable as Astera Lestrange. Her cheeks were flushed, her dark eyes were sparkling and even her hair didn’t seem as dull as usual. She was actually happy, happy to be away from the Malfoys, from the manor house and from feeling like an outsider.

Finally, at Hogwarts, she would have the chance to start afresh, and she couldn’t wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone that's giving this a chance, hope you enjoyed this chapter. Next stop, Hogwarts!


	4. The Stars Look Down

The silhouette of the castle rose silently into view as the group of first years rounded the corner in their boats. Astera stared in wonder at the mass of turrets and walls, barely visible against the night sky except for the for warm orange glow issuing from the hundreds of windows. It looked so inviting and purely magical. In fact, the young girl could almost feel the magic buzzing in the air, a completely different feel from Malfoy Manor. It was full of excitement and joy, rather than a foreboding sense of dark magic. 

The boats continued to glide closer to the castle, sailing towards a curtain of ivy in the cliff face. Astera ducked as they sailed through into a dark tunnel, feeling the ivy trail over her, cold and slightly damp. It wasn’t a nice feeling. The boats finally came to rest shortly after at a small, underground harbour.

“Everybody out!” Hagrid shouted.

Astera quickly clambered out behind Theo, stepping onto the uneven gravel of the cave’s floor.

After a quiet, and seemingly clumsy, boy was reunited with his pet toad, Hagrid led the way up several flights of stairs, stopping the group before a set of huge, oak doors that towered over the first years.

“Everybody here?” Hagrid called out.

After an affirmative yes rumbled from the group, Hagrid told them to wait for a Professor McGonagall before slipping through the doors. He shut them so quickly that Astera, who was craning her neck in an attempt to see what awaited her, couldn’t even catch a glimpse of what lay beyond.

As the group waited, Astera felt the nerves bubbling up inside her. The way students were sorted was traditionally a secret, kept even from the most prestigious pureblood children. Would there be a test? Would it be written, or would they have to perform spells in front of the entire school? Around her, Astera could hear the uneasy whisperings of her fellow classmates, who were seemingly all worrying about the same thing as her. At least they were all in the same boat, she thought to herself.

The sharp click of heels broke Astera out of her thoughts and she looked up to see a stern-looking woman dressed in emerald green robes stepping between the first years and the oak doors. Her hair was scraped back into a severe bun and her eyes peered over the top of her spectacles as she surveyed the group in front of her. This could only be Professor McGonagall.

“Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” she said. “The start-of-term banquet will be starting shortly, but before you can take your seats, you will be sorted into your houses.

‘The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family at Hogwarts, You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room.” She paused briefly, looking around at the children. “The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history, and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards.

‘While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you house points, whilst any rule-breaking will lose you house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.” She paused again. “The Sorting Ceremony will begin in a few minutes in front of the whole school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.”

Astera saw the way Professor McGonagall glanced at the plump boy who had previously lost his toad. His face was flushed, his tie loose and his robe was fastened under his left ear. The boy noticed and hurriedly pulled his robe back on, almost losing his toad again in the process. Astera glanced down at her own robe and adjusted it slightly before the long creak of the doors opening had her head shooting up.

“I shall return when we are ready for you,” said Professor McGonagall. “Please wait here quietly.”

Then the older woman slipped through the doors, leaving the first years alone again.

Astera looked around at her fellow students and immediately regretted it. The nervous whisperings she had heard earlier had amplified. A plain girl with bushy brown hair was frantically whispering spells to herself, pacing back and forth, another two boys were worriedly talking to one another, evidenced by the friendly hand one of them had placed on the other’s shoulder.  
All of a sudden, Astera heard a series of gasps and shouts and spun round. A series of pearl white figures had gathered behind them, appearing to be in the midst of some sort of argument. Ghosts.

The young girl stepped back, unsure of how to react. They didn’t seem to have noticed the group of first years. 

“Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance –“ a monk was saying.

“My dear Friar, haven’t we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he’s not really even a ghost – I say, what are you all doing here?” A ghost dressed in medieval clothing had finally noticed them.

Nobody dared to say a word.

“New students!” the friar exclaimed suddenly. “About to be sorted, I suppose?”

Astera nodded. He seemed alright, for a ghost.

“Hope to see you in Hufflepuff,” the Friar smiled. “My old house, you know.”

“Move along now.” Professor McGonagall’s sharp reprimand made Astera jump. She hadn’t realised the woman had returned. “The Sorting Ceremony’s about to start. Now, form a line please, and follow me.”

Astera slipped into the line after Draco and Pansy, her stomach tying itself in knots.

This was the moment.

The moment she would find out which house she truly belonged to.

Would it be Slytherin, like the rest of her family? She hoped so. Whilst she didn’t like most of the people she knew would become Slytherins, she didn’t want to risk the wrath of her family. Merlin forbid she end up in Gryffindor. Perhaps there was a way to deliberately end up in Slytherin…

However, at that point, all thoughts disappeared as she entered the Great Hall and looked up. It was just as the book had described. The warm light of the floating candles contrasted deeply against the dark velvety blue of the star-filled ceiling. It truly looked like the roof opened up to the actual sky.

The girl was so busy admiring the roof that she didn’t realise that the line had stopped, and she ran straight into the back of Draco.

Immediately, he turned round and glared at Astera, his piercing blue eyes catching her own.

“Watch it,” he hissed.

Astera winced. “Sorry.”

The boy turned back and strode down the aisle in order to catch up with the now-moving line, leaving Astera to quickly hurry after him. 

Once they reached the front of the hall, the group spread out. Astera tried to peer between the shoulders of Pansy and Draco to see what they were crowded around. But all she could see was a small wooden stool with an old frayed wizard’s hat perched on top, so worn that the pointed peak had flopped to one side.

Astera wrinkled her nose. Was this old thing supposed to test them on what house they should be in? It didn’t look like much. In fact, it looked filthy and she wasn’t sure she wanted to go near it.

However, she didn’t get a chance to ponder this thought any longer as the hat ripped itself open at the brim and start singing. Introducing not only itself as the Sorting Hat, but also the four houses and their traits.

When it stopped, the hall suddenly burst into a wild round of applause, startling the young witch slightly. She had been concentrating so hard on the what the lyrics meant that she hadn’t realised the hat had stopped singing. If she’d heard right, all she had to do was put the hat on her head to be sorted. Whilst she wasn't sure she wanted something placed on her head that had clearly been collecting dust on some shelf for many years, she did feel some of the worry lift from her shoulders as Professor McGonagall reappeared with a large role of parchment.

“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” she said, confirming what Astera had got from the Hat’s lyrics. “Abbott, Hannah!”

A small girl with round cheeks and blonde pigtails nervously made her way up to the stool and sat down. Professor McGonagall placed the hate carefully on the girl’s head. Immediately it slipped down over Hannah’s eyes. There was a moment’s pause…

“HUFFLEPUFF!” the hat shouted.

The girl beamed as she slipped down and returned the hat to Professor McGonagall, almost skipping over to the table on the left-hand side of the room, whose occupants were cheering wildly.  
Astera watched on nervously as name after name was called. Crabbe and Goyle both ended up in Slytherin, as did Millicent Bulstrode and Daphne Greengrass. No surprises there, Astera thought glumly.

“Lestrange, Astera!”

A hushed silence spread across the room, making Astera wince. Her name had been bound to make an impact; but she hadn’t realised how much of an impact.

As she pushed past Draco, she noticed that the plump boy with the toad was staring at her, eyes wide in horror. Guiltily, she looked away, knowing that her father and his wife did many terrible things before they were incarcerated. Who knows what they had done to affect this boy?

Settling herself down on the stool, she looked out at the four tables of students staring back at her in silence. A few even had their noses wrinkled in disgust. Astera looked down, bracing herself for the moment that Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on her head. Then everything went dark. Astera pulled a face at the musty old smell, praying silently that this would be quick and the tatty thing would be taken away.

“Ah, what do we have here?” a voice said suddenly, startling the young witch. Then she realised that she was the only one who could hear it. The Hat.

“Hmm, you have quite the brain there, I see a thirst for knowledge,” the voice mused. “You would fit very well into Ravenclaw. In fact, I’m certain you’d thrive there.”

Astera’s eyes widened in panic. No! she thought frantically. She had to find a way to trick this hat into letting her into Slytherin. She had to be part of that house – for her and for the Malfoys. It would never be forgiven if she ended up somewhere else. Desperately, she fought to conceal the parts of her that were least-like the Slytherin traits, focusing on pushing memories of cunningness to the front of her mind.

“Ah,” said the hat. “Very cunning indeed. It won’t work with me, Miss Lestrange, I can see everything inside your head, even those memories that you’re trying to hide. A nice try nonetheless. And it has made up my mind. It’s going to have to be…”

Astera squeezed her eyes shut.

“SLYTHERIN!”

The girl gasped in disbelief, opening her eyes to see the table on the far right erupt in cheers. Cheers for her. She beamed happily, jumping off the stool and gingerly handing back the filthy hat before making her way over to the cheering table.

She sat down next to Daphne, having no choice, and smiled at her out of courtesy before turning back to the Sorting Ceremony.

It wasn’t long before Draco joined them, followed by, to her relief, Theo. Pansy was also sorted into Slytherin and then the moment came that everyone in the room had been waiting for.

“Potter, Harry!” Professor McGonagall called.

The hall was so silent that you could have heard a pin drop.

The small boy with messy black hair and round glasses that her and Draco had bumped into at Madame Malkin’s, nervously made his way up to the stool. Astera stared in disbelief. The clueless and seemingly shy boy they had met was the famous Harry Potter? She continued to watch as the Sorting Hat was placed on his head, the rest of the room waiting with bated breath for its decision. Silence.

Finally, the hat opened at the brim.

“GRYFFINDOR!” it yelled, and the table just down from where Astera was sitting burst into the loudest applause of the night. The young boy happily ran and joined them, beaming from ear to ear.

“Ugh,” groaned Draco from across the table. “Of course he ends up in Gryffindor.”

Astera rolled her eyes. Harry Potter was never going to be a Slytherin, was he? Instead of listening to Draco’s moans, she instead turned her gaze to the table at the end of the room, filled with the teachers of Hogwarts. She instantly recognised Professor Snape, as well as the large form of Hagrid. Professor Dumbledore she also recognised from her collection of chocolate frog cards. She had about 20 of him.

He was sat in the centre of the table, clearly enjoying the ceremony as he was sat forward eagerly, his blue eyes twinkling as ‘Turpin, Lisa’ became a Ravenclaw.

Astera then switched her gaze back to watch Professor Snape. Her new Head of House. She almost winced at that thought. The man had never really said anything to her when they had met at Malfoy Manor, just stared at her down his hooked nose. He was a quiet man and didn’t seem to like being involved in the Malfoy’s dabble in dark magic, but went along with it anyway. The only thing she really knew about him was that he taught potions here, but actually wanted the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts. His classes could turn out to be quite interesting, she thought.

Blaise Zabini being sorted into Slytherin brought the young witch’s attention back to the Sorting Ceremony. Professor McGonagall was rolling up her parchment, tucking it under her arm and removing the stool and Sorting Hat.

At this point, Professor Dumbledore stood up. Smiling widely, he threw open his arms.

“Welcome!” he cried. “”Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!” He smiled again.

“Thank you!” He sat back down, and the hall erupted in wild applause.

Astera had heard that the Headmaster was a bit unusual, but also that he was supposed to be the best wizard in the world. She couldn’t quite see that from the aging man now tucking happily into a plate of roast potatoes. But she supposed that people often surprised you in the strangest of ways. There was probably a lot more to him than met the eye.

Satisfied, the girl turned back to her table to find everyone tucking into the now full plates of food that filled the table. Her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t realised how long it had been since she had last eaten. So, piling her plate with chicken, potatoes and vegetables, she tucked in.

It wasn’t until Pansy let out a shrill scream that her eyes left her plate. Her head shooting up, she immediately saw why Pansy had screamed. There, in the middle of the table, hovering over the pumpkin pasties, was the blood covered silvery ghost they had seen previously arguing with the Friar outside. The one dressed in medieval clothing and had a large, curly wig.

Some of the older students next to them chuckled.

“Bloody Baron,” one of the sniggering girls said. “How was your summer?”

The ghost turned to face the girl. “Same as usual, it seems. I am still the only one in this castle who can control that pesky poltergeist.” The Baron seemed to roll his eyes, then he turned to the first years. “I guess these must be the new recruits?”

“This is the Bloody Baron,” the girl introduced. “He is Slytherin’s house ghost. You can trust him to help you in the corridors, unlike many of the other ghosts.”

“That you can be sure of,” the Baron agreed, and Astera was sure she saw him smile, but it was hard to tell under all the blood. “Ah, it seems I am needed.” The baron looked to where another ghost was beckoning him. “Good luck first years.”

He nodded at them and glided through the nearest wall.

Quite soon after, the remainder of the puddings disappeared as suddenly as they’d appeared, and the hall went silent as Dumbledore stood up once more.

“Ahem – just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give.

‘First years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.” The wizard’s gaze seemed to focus on the Gryffindor table. “I have also been asked by Mr Filch the caretaker to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

‘Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house team should contact Madam Hooch.

‘And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to anyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.”

There were a few puzzled looks at that statement, and a few laughs, but Astera could tell that he was being serious. Something in those blue eyes told her so.

“And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!” he cried happily, his tone completely changed from a moment before.

The wizard flicked his wand and a roll of pale gold ribbon unfurled itself above him, displaying what was clearly the lyrics of the song.

“Everyone pick their favourite tune,” Dumbledore said. “And off we go.”

The hall was suddenly filled with hundreds of different voices, all singing different notes at different times and in different keys. It made Astera want to clap her hands over her ears. She joined in regardless, choosing one of the songs she had heard Narcissa play a thousand times, one by Celestina Warbeck.

Whilst she may have been one of the last to finish, it was the twins who had helped her on the train who took the longest. Dumbledore conducted them with his wand until the very last note.

“Ah music,” he said with a happy sigh. Astera saw Snape roll his eyes out of the corner of her eye. “A magic beyond all we do here. And now, bedtime. Off you trot!”

The girl who had introduced them to the Bloody Baron now stood up and introduced herself to them as a Slytherin prefect called Gemma.

“Follow me please,” she called in a matter-of-fact voice. “Try to keep up, you don’t want to get lost in the castle at this time of night.”

Astera quickly scrambled off the bench and made her way after Gemma, who was striding across the hall.

As the prefect led the first years down several passages and staircases, Astera started to wonder how she was going to get anywhere without getting lost. This castle was huge! She was glad when they finally came to a stop in front of a large stone wall.

“Salazar,” the girl said firmly.

The stone seemed to melt away in front of their eyes, revealing a hidden doorway. From within, a silvery green light filtered out into the corridor.

Stepping inside, it became clear that the eerie light came from the floor to ceiling windows that looked out into the Black Lake. Astera thought that it was quite relaxing listening to the waves lap against the glass.

The room itself was very tall, and was decorated elegantly in green and silver. Plush emerald green sofas stood next to the elaborately carved fireplace, enchanted to emit green flames, and a sparkling chandelier hung from the vaulted ceiling, scattering beads of light across the room.

“Girl’s dormitory is down to the left,” Gemma called out. “And boys to the right. Breakfast will be nice and early at 7:30 sharp. Best to get some sleep, tomorrow will be a long day.”

Astera glanced at Draco, who was already striding down the right corridor, before turning to follow behind Daphne and Pansy as they walked down the corridor to the left. It felt weird going separate ways. Part of her was a little hurt he hadn’t spoken to her; or even congratulated her on making Slytherin. But she pushed that thought aside. This was her new start.

Arriving at the dorm room, the girls found five four-poster beds, each one hung with deep green curtains with silver tassels and made up with soft-looking bedding. Astera’s was the closest to the door, her trunk next to her bed, along with a set of Slytherin accessories, including a tie and a jumper.

Astera could feel her eyelids growing heavy as she brushed her teeth and slipped into her pyjamas. She quickly got into bed and pulled the curtains across, not wanting to be disturbed by her dormmates. She didn’t think she could face them at that moment.

Lying on her back, the girl pushed all thoughts of Draco away and recalled the ceiling of the Great Hall, the thousands of twinkling stars dotting the velvety dark sky. This was her last thought before she slipped into dreamland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to pop in and say thanks to everyone who has read this story so far, and also to the person who left kudos! It really does mean a lot!


	5. Naughty

When Astera peered through the rich green curtains of her bed the next morning, no one had stirred. A greenish light was filtering in through the lake and she could just about make out the forms of Daphne and Tracey in the nearest beds.

She shivered, letting the curtains slip back. It was chilly this morning, she thought. Surprisingly even more so than Malfoy Manor. However, knowing she would not be able to go back to sleep, the young witch forced herself to swing her legs about of bed and grab her neatly folded robes on the nearby chair. Cold immediately spread through the soles of her feet and so she sprinted across the cold flagstone floor to the slightly warmer bathroom, hugging her clothes tightly to her chest.

Once there, she quickly washed herself and brushed her hair with her hairbrush that had already been laid out by the ornate taps of her wash basin, no doubt a House Elf’s doing.

After changing from her pyjamas into her uniform and brushing her teeth, she stopped to check herself in the mirror. Straightening her tie, she beamed proudly at the Slytherin smiling back at her. She had done it. She had survived all those years at Malfoy Manor and had made it to Hogwarts; a place where she could finally do what she wanted without Lucius breathing down her neck.

She let out a happy sigh and made her way back through the dorm, stopping briefly to slip her wand into her robes, before quietly making her way down to the common room. No one else was about. She wondered what the time was. Whatever it was, she realised that it must be early.

Curious and not sure what else to do, she started to look around the room, admiring the vaulted ceilings and stopping to look out into the lake. A stray fish swam past leisurely, its fins glinting in the early morning sunlight. She smiled and turned away, venturing to the other side of the room where a large noticeboard was hung on the wall. Several pieces of parchment had already been attached. There was one talking about Quidditch, which was no good for her considering first years never made the team. There was another about volunteering to help maintain the greenhouses to pick up some extra credit in Herbology. Astera wrinkled her nose at that one. Narcissa had once tried to get the young girl to learn about Herbology, saying it was a part of being a pureblood lady to look after the plants of the manor. Thankfully, she had given up soon after Astera had accidentally killed one of her favourite plants after feeding it the wrong growing potion.

The girl let out a little snort at the memory, her eyes roaming the board for anything more interesting. It was then that she saw a corner poking out from under a notice about helping out a Madam Pomphrey in the hospital wing. Curiously, she pulled it out:

_‘Professor Flitwick invites you to audition for the Hogwarts choir tonight (2 nd September) at 6pm in the choir room on the first floor. All years welcome.’ _

Choir, Astera mused. She had always enjoyed singing along to Narcissa’s records. It was one of the few pureblood lessons she had enjoyed growing up.

Making a mental note to go, and carefully placing the notice back on the board, Astera decided to start out for the Great Hall for breakfast. Surely it wouldn’t matter if she was a little early?

Slipping out into the corridor, the young witch tried to remember the way she had been brought last night. Heading upwards, she scaled a couple of staircases, taking care not to climb those that were about to move.

She’d reach the first floor and had just deciding against one that was rumbling, when, as she turned back, she came face to face with a small, mischievous-looking fellow, his ginger hair sticking up in all directions as he floated above her head.

He let out a gleeful cackle at Astera’s horrified expression. “Ah, an ickle firstie!” he cried.

Astera gulped. This must be Peeves, the poltergeist that the Baron had spoken about the day before. Slowly, she began to back away, before turning and sprinting down the nearest corridor. She spied an open door, and in a blind panic, ran inside, slamming the door shut.

Big mistake. A cackle came from outside the door. He’d followed her. A head poked itself through the door, making Astera jump back in fright. The poltergeist grinned wickedly.

“Found you!” he said. Then, he disappeared.

There was a scaping sound as the bolt on the outside door slid shut.

Filled with dread, Astera lurched forward, grabbing the doorknob and rattling it desperately. To no surprise, the door didn’t budge.

“Come on,” Astera cried desperately. “Come on, please open!”

The door didn’t move. Astera wished she’d thought to memorise the spell that unlocked doors, but she couldn’t recall it for the life of her. Frantically, she looked around the rest of the room for some other way of escape, but the room was small with only one small window set high up on the wall and no other doors. The girl let out a groan of frustration. How could she have been so stupid? She knew Peeves was trouble, why had she given him the advantage?

With tears forming in the corner of her eyes, she slumped down against the door. Her first day and she would miss everything. Who knew how long it would be before somebody found her? It was hardly a classroom that she had run into, and this castle had thousands of rooms.

She sat, knees up to her chest, for what felt like hours, but in reality was probably only minutes. Hopelessness clouded her thoughts as she gazed around her prison.

“Ah, so you’re the one Peeves was gloating about?” a deep voice asked, sounding somewhat amused.

Startled, Astera scrambled to get up, looking around the room. There, right by the entrance, a pearly white figure floated. The Bloody Baron. Suddenly, she was glad she had been sorted into Slytherin.

“It’s a good job I found you,” the ghost continued. “But we’d better get you out of here. Breakfast will be starting shortly.”

The Baron glided through the wall, and a second later, the bolt on the door slid open. Astera was free!

“Thank you so much, Mister Baron,” Astera said, smiling at him gratefully.

“Baron will do,” the ghost responded gently, returning the smile. Astera found this a little disconcerting, considering the ghost was covered in glittering blood. “Now, let me escort you to the Great Hall so you don’t have another run in with Peeves. Follow me please, my lady.”

Astera nodded and let him lead the way.

The ghost led her right to the entrance to the Great Hall, stopping before the doors.

“Here we are, my lady,” he said. “Enjoy your first day, and try not to get into any more trouble.”

Then, with a parting nod, the ghost floated through the nearest wall, leaving Astera to shout her thanks after him, hoping that he’d heard it.

When she entered the Great Hall all four tables were full of students. Luckily that meant that no one noticed her as she moved over to the Slytherin table and found a gap between Draco and Theo to squeeze into.

There wasn’t much breakfast left, so the girl quickly helped herself to some toast and jam and a goblet of pumpkin juice. She eyed Crabbe and Goyle’s piled up plates with a disgusted look. How could anyone eat so much?

Spreading jam onto her toast, which was amazingly still warm, she had barely taken a bite when the first of the owls swooped in from a window in the ceiling. She quickly spied Farren among them, carrying a carefully sealed envelope in his beak, which he neatly dropped beside Astera’s plate before landing on the table. He looked at her expectantly.

Chuckling, she tore off a piece of toast that had no jam and gave it to the owl.

“Sorry, I haven’t got any treats on me,” she said, giving him an affectionate stroke. Farren gave her a satisfied nuzzle, stretched his wings and flew off.

Astera looked down at the letter in front of her. The address was in Narcissa’s elegant script. Picking it up, she noticed it was thick for one of Narcissa’s letters. Surely there can’t be that much to say after one day?

Curious, she opened it and pulled out the parchment. The first page was in the same handwriting as on the envelope. The girl skimmed through it. It was actually a nice letter, telling the girl that she was proud that she had made it into Slytherin, and to keep up with her studies. Of course, she had to mention her precious Draco. Shaking her head, the girl skipped the two paragraphs that gushed about him.

Putting the first page down, she turned to the second. The blood seemed to freeze in her veins. Frantically, she shoved it under the table, praying that no one else had seen the Azkaban stamp of approval in the top corner. As if that wasn’t a big enough clue, Astera recognised the spidery handwriting that she usually own saw once a year on her birthday. It was her father’s.

Everything about the man made her ashamed. She wasn’t even sure what made her read the letter, but for some reason, her eyes took in every word.

_My little Astera,_

_It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you, and I suppose you’re not so little anymore. But I want you to know that I still think of you every day. I am glad the Malfoys took you in and are raising you well. We will forever be indebted to them, never forget that._

_However, I wanted to write as Lucius unformed me that you started Hogwarts and were sorted into Slytherin. You’re a true Lestrange now my girl, and I’m so proud of you, we both are. One day, I hope you will follow in our footsteps and make something great of yourself. Hopefully by then we will be reunited._

_Work hard my girl, and I will be in touch again as soon as I can. Lucius will keep me updated on your progress._

_Signed,_

_Your Father_

Astera felt her stomach contents roll. Suddenly, her toast and jam didn’t seem so appetising anymore. In fact, none of the beautiful food on the table took her interest as she spent the next ten minutes pushing toast around her plate, gazing mindlessly at the wall. She couldn’t stop thinking about the offending letter now hidden in the pocket of her robes until Professor Snape came around the table, handing out timetables. She welcomed the distraction.

“Miss Lestrange,” he drawled, handing her a piece of parchment. “The baron told me of your… unfortunate run in with Peeves. I suggest you be more careful in the future.”

He gave her a disapproving look down his hooked nose and swept away, leaving Astera mortified.

“So that’s why you were late,” Draco scorned. “You let an ickle poltergeist get the better of you? How pathetic.”

Astera let his harsh words cut into her, not even attempting to respond. Theo, however, was more sympathetic.

“Are you alright?” he said quietly once Draco had turned back to Pansy and Blaise. “I’ve heard Peeves is a nasty little fellow.”

“Yes, I’m fine thank you. I was just careless.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it, Astera. It could have happened to anyone, and I’m pretty certain that it will happen to most of us before we leave Hogwarts. Peeves is well known for tormenting both students and staff.”

The girl gave him a small smile. “Thanks,” she said quietly.

“Have you seen we have potions on Friday with the Gryffindors?” Theo continued, clearly trying to distract her. “That could be an interesting one.”

Astera murmured her agreement, her eyes roving over the timetable for that day. Double Herbology first thing, followed by double History of Magic. Then, in the afternoon, they had double Charms. Quite a full-on day, she thought to herself. But she wouldn’t let that pesky poltergeist ruin it.

* * *

After a slight deviation to collect their books from their dorms, the Slytherins arrived at the greenhouse for Herbology.

It was a strange set up for a classroom, Astera thought as she followed Draco through the door. A long, roughly carved table lined the centre of the room, with matching stools placed along either side. Plants of all shapes and sizes filled the ledges round the edge of the shed, some swaying softly in the non-existent breeze, some making little snoring noises. Astera knew better than to trust that any of them were as sweet and innocent as they seemed. And as if to prove her line of thought, one of them chose that moment to let out a loud burp, emitting a moss green gas. The girl wrinkled her nose as the foul smell of rotten eggs filled her nostrils.

Moving away quickly, she carefully took a seat in between Theo and Draco, pulling a face at the soil and grime filling the cracks in the table. Hastily, she tried to wipe the table clean before gingerly placing her textbook down. She had a feeling she wasn’t going to enjoy this lesson.

The door opened then and the Ravenclaws streamed in. On seeing the Slytherins perched at the end of the table, they immediately huddled down the opposite end, casting wary glances in their direction.

“Right class,” a spritely voice intervened, and Astera moved her gaze from the Ravenclaws to the plump woman now stood at the end of the table. Her hat was lopsided, patched and frayed, and her robes covered in soil. She smiled brightly at the group.

Astera could hear Draco sniggering as the teacher introduced herself as Professor Sprout. She had to fight not to join him, stifling her smile by thinking of the potentially lethal plants surrounding them.

“Today we will be working on repotting the Mittent Plant. For those of you who are new to the Wizarding world, or who are not comfortable with plants, you will be glad to know that it is harmless.

‘Your task for today will be repotting these plants, as they must be kept in fresh soil. These particular plants have not been re-potted since the last academic year.

‘To start off with, can anyone tell me why they are called Mittent Plants?”

No one put up their hand, not even Astera. She hadn’t looked at her Herbology book yet. In fact, she hadn’t even opened it.

“Right then, if no one can tell me now, the first student to find out will be awarded ten house points. I’ll pass out the plants. New pots can be found under the table and fresh soil in the back corner. Off you go.”

There was a scraping of stools as a mad rush ensued. Astera stayed seated a moment longer, staring at the pile of dirt in the far corner. The thought of getting it under her nails and all down her robes made her feel faintly sick.

Theo seemed to read her mind. “I’ll get the soil for both of us,” he told her before she could get up.

She shot him a grateful smile. “Thanks, I’ll get the pots then.”

She watched him walk off before leaning down to collect two clean pots from the piles under the table. However, as she surfaced, she collided with Professor Sprout, who had her hands full of Mittent plants. Dark soil spilt out thick and fast over the table, missing the girl by inches.

Professor Sprout looked down in mild surprise. “Oh, sorry dear, I didn’t see you down there.”

“It’s okay, I should have looked before I stood up so fast,” Astera smiled weakly, wincing as she eyed her new textbook, now buried under a pile of dirt.

“Here, let me help.” Theo had returned, and placing down the soil he had collected, he rescued the dropped plants and set them to rights.

“Thank you Mr Nott,” the professor said, beaming at the boy before turning a steely gaze on Astera. “Miss Lestrange, if you want to pass Herbology, you’re going to have to get stuck in.”

The girl didn’t respond, but, with a grimace, she picked her book up by the corner and shook it before placing it back in her bag.

She couldn’t imagine ever getting used to the dirt. She didn’t flinch away from a lot of things, but dirt, dirt was something she had never been allowed to play in a child, dirt was something that was cleaned up by the house elves before she even saw it. If anything, Narcissa had brought her up with one motto:

Ladies didn’t mess with dirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those who have left kudos, it honestly means a lot! Hope all of you enjoyed this chapter :)


	6. On My Own

By the end of the lesson, one thing was confirmed, and Astera was certain that she was going to fail miserably at Herbology. Even Theo was chuckling as he helped pick soil out of her hair from where the plant had thrown it at her. He had been the one to receive the ten house points for correctly telling Professor Sprout that the Mittent plants were named as they had a tendency to throw soil in all directions just to cause mischief. Astera was not so amused, especially when they were set a foot-long essay on how to stop the plants from throwing soil at you. Something she sorely wished she had known _during_ the lesson.

A boring History of Magic lesson came next, where they covered the basics of the witch trials in the middle ages, something Astera had already been taught. This was followed by a quick, but delicious lunch, and a surprisingly interesting charms lesson. Astera had enjoyed this class, levitating her feather minutes after Theo and just before Draco, earning her five house points for Slytherin. She had also liked the professor, a short man with a squeaky voice and a wicked sense of humour. It had made her mind up about going to the choir try outs that evening.

However, whilst she had been in higher spirits on leaving class, the rest of the Slytherins had yet to forget Astera’s run in with Peeves, and were laughing about it as they made their way back down to the dungeons to relax before dinner. Theo was kindly trying to distract her, rambling on about how much he had also enjoyed the charms lesson. He’s sweet, Astera thought, and it was nice to know that at least somebody in Slytherin had her back.

“So, have you got any plans for this evening?” he asked her causally as they passed by the Great Hall.

Astera considered whether to tell him about the choir try outs, and decided to trust him.

Theo looked mildly surprised. “You can sing?”

“Well, I’m not that good,” Astera replied, embarrassed.

“I’m sure you’re just being modest. How did you get interested in it?”

“Well, Narcissa taught me when I was younger. It was about one of the only ‘how to act like a pureblood lady’ lessons that I enjoyed. They used to get me to sing each Christmas.”

“A-ha, so you must be good if Lucius wanted to listen to you! I’ve heard he’s a tough nut to crack.”

Astera flushed. _He didn’t know the half of it_ , she thought to herself.

“So, are you going to try out for anything?” she asked, changing the subject.

“I haven’t decided yet, although I would say that the Wizard Chess club is probably more up my street than Quidditch.”

“You don’t like Quidditch?” Astera asked, feigning shock.

Theo let out a laugh and put his hands up in defeat. “I know, I know, I’m a disgrace to the wizard name.” Something in his face darkened. “Or at least that’s what my father says. But I can’t help that I don’t like heights.”

Astera could sense the underlying tone, and backed down. She knew what it was like to be a disappointment to someone, as Lucius had constantly reminded her.

“I think that’s fair,” she said, then realised that they had reached the staircase leading to the first floor. “I need to go find the choir room, or I’ll be late. But I’ll see you at dinner?”

“Yeah, sure,” Theo said. “Good luck!”

“Thanks.”

With a quick smile, Astera tugged her bag back onto her shoulder and headed up the staircase, praying that this one wouldn’t move before she reached the top.

After asking a terrified Hufflepuff for directions, she reached the choir room a few minutes before the clock chimed six. A number of students were already there, chattering away in little groups as they waited. Astera hung back by the door, feeling uncomfortable. Most of them looked older than her, and, as she took in her surroundings, she realised there was something missing from the sea of people in the room.

Amongst all the robes, there was not a single flash of green.

Immediately, Astera felt self-conscious, adjusting her robe to hide most of her tie. If she hadn’t already been feeling nervous enough, she was now plain petrified. The butterflies in her stomach were churning, and her chest tightened. In fact, she very nearly turned on her heel and walked out. Instead, she steeled her nerves with a deep breath. What would Narcissa think if she found out she had run away? Purebloods did not run from things. They faced them head on.

The sound of a wand rapping sharply against a desk had the girl nearly jumping out of her skin as the room fell quiet. Professor Flitwick was balanced on top of a pile of books at the far end of the room.

“Please could you all queue up in an orderly fashion and put your name and house on the sign-up sheet,” he announced in his squeaky voice, and there was an immediate shuffling as everyone rushed over to line up. Astera followed hesitantly, joining the very back of the queue.

“The Hogwarts choir is a long-standing tradition,” the man continued. “We meet twice a week on a Tuesday and Friday evening, and perform at all the major events. There is also an inter-school competition that we attend annually in the summer, in which all the Wizarding schools in Europe compete.

‘When you’ve all signed up, if you could spread out and we’ll do a warmup together. Then, I’ll see you each sing a song of your own choice individually.”

There was a shuffling in the line as people pushed their way forward in the middle of the queue, eager to get started. Professor Flitwick didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t acknowledge it.

“We have five places to fill this year,” he continued. “Those who are successful will be listed on a sheet that will be hung on the notice board in each house common room first thing tomorrow morning.” He smiled widely. “Good luck to all of you.”

Once they’d all signed their names, the group spread out, Astera heading away from everyone else and into the darkest corner of the room. In fact, it was so dark that two other girls who had chosen the same spot nearly bumped right into her.

“Sorry,” squeaked one.

Astera smiled at them. “No, no, don’t worry. It’s my fault for choosing the darkest place in the room.”

The other one, a taller girl with raven hair just watched her warily and pulled her friend away slightly. But her friend was having none of it.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Odette,” the other girl hissed. “That’s Astera _Lestrange._ ”

“And how many times have I told you, _Lydessa,_ that I don’t judge a book by its cover.”

Astera couldn’t help but let out a smile at the friendly bickering.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she interrupted them, holding out her hand. Odette stopped glaring at her friend and beamed back, taking Astera’s outstretched hand in a surprisingly firm grip.

“I’m Odette, Odette Badeaux and this is Lydessa Paradzai.” She gestured to her friend, who was still watching Astera suspiciously.

“I don’t blame you for being wary,” Astera told her. “But I’m not proud of my father, and I can assure you that I haven’t been in contact with him since he… since he went to Azkaban.”

She wasn’t quite sure why she lied; the letter burning red hot in her robe pocket. Her gut had told her that it was right thing to do, and she couldn’t take it back now.

“So, what made you sign up to choir?” Odette asked.

Astera spieled off the answer she had given to Theo earlier, and asked the girl in return.

“I think I fell in love with singing when I saw my first musical in the West End.” Odette smiled dreamily.

Astera gave her a funny look. She had never heard of a ‘musical’ and what in Merlin’s name was the ‘West End’?

“Odette, she won’t understand your muggleisms,” Lydessa said, rolling her eyes before turning to Astera. “A musical is a story with songs in it. Muggles go to watch them in big halls, and most of them are situated in London in a district called the West End.”

“Oh, I see. They sound fun! The only songs I know are those written by the classics. Celestina Warbeck, Madame Bletchley and some stuff by Eric Percival.” She shrugged, but she could feel her face turning slightly pink. She prayed that the two girls couldn’t see it in the dim light.

“I’ll have to show you at some point,” Odette said excitedly. “You know, it’s such a shame that wizards don’t use electricity. I could have brought my cassette player. I have most of the musical soundtracks on cassette.” She paused, and Astera caught the look Lydessa was giving her. “Oh gosh sorry, I just forget! I’m not used to this whole magic thing. Casettes are these little tape things.” She used her hands to show a small rectangle. “You put them in the player and they play music.”

“A bit like our records,” Lydessa put in.

“You’ll have to come over in the holidays, I’m sure my parents would love to meet you!”

Lydessa let out a snort. “A Lestrange visiting a muggleborn? That’ll be the day.”

Astera winced at these words and an uneasy silence fell over the three girls.

Whilst she hated to admit it, Lydessa was right. She wouldn’t be able to visit a muggleborn, even if she wanted to. In fact, her stomach clenched at just the thought of Lucius’ reaction. He would all but kill her.

***

The whole audition took about an hour, and by the time Astera had sung her solo, it was dinnertime.

She walked out of the classroom feeling pleased with herself. Professor Flitwick had told her she had a lovely voice, and for once in her life, she was proud. Even if she didn’t get into the choir, the fact that she’d had the guts to audition was an achievement nonetheless.

As she had been the last to sing her solo, she expected to step out to a deserted corridor. However, as she closed the door carefully behind her, she was surprised to see the two Ravenclaws – Lydessa and Odette – waiting.

Lydessa was whispering hurriedly to Odette, “I really don’t think this is a good idea. She won’t be interested in making friends with non-Slytherins, I –”

But Odette had already spotted Astera, and pushed past her friend.

“Astera, wait!”

Astera turned to look at them.

“How did it go?”

Astera blinked. “Pardon?”

“The audition, how did it go? Professor Flitwick put a silencing charm on the room.”

“Oh.” Astera was taken aback. _Why had they waited?_ “Yes, I think it went alright thank you. How was yours?”

“It was great!” Odette said enthusiastically. “The Professor said I had a really good chance of getting in, same with Lydessa too!”

Astera glanced at the other girl, who didn’t seem to be quite so elated, her dark eyes watching Astera mistrustfully.

“We were actually about to head down for dinner. I wondered if you wanted to come with us? Presumably you’re heading that way too?” Odette asked.

“Uh, sure.” Astera tore her eyes away from Lydessa to smile gently at Odette.

The whole way down to the Great Hall, Odette chattered away, asking Astera questions about her childhood, growing up in a manor house and what it was like to be a pureblood witch. Astera answered as best she could, but she was somewhat relieved when they reached the doors of the Great Hall. She wasn’t used to people showing so much interest in her.

As the two Ravenclaws headed to push the door opened, Astera hung back, shifting on her feet uncomfortably.

“I… er… think I better had over to the Slytherin table,” she told them tentatively.

She was well aware that news that she was hanging round with a half-blood and a muggleborn would soon make its way back to Lucius if the Slytherins saw her. No doubt that would at least end in a howler, if not worse. Knowing Lucius, he would consider pulling her out of Hogwarts all together, and she could not risk that. Not now she’d finally got here.

Out of the corner of her eye, Astera saw Lydessa roll her eyes, folding her arms across her chest.

“I really do appreciate you waiting for me,” she continued, trying her best to ignore the girl. “It was very kind, and I hope that we all make it into the choir.” She let out a small smile.

“It’s no big deal. I hope we do too, it would be so fun.” Odette smiled brightly. “We’ll see you around then.”

“Yeah, sure,” Astera murmured, as Lydessa took Odette by the arm and all but marched her into the Great Hall, leaving Astera alone in the entranceway.

In secret, she was nervous about seeing Draco. No doubt he would ask where she’d been since the end of class, and she really didn’t want him to know about choir. He’d only tease her relentlessly, as evidenced by the fact no other Slytherins were at the audition. It would be even worse if her audition wasn’t successful.

Taking a deep breath, the girl steeled herself to join her fellow housemates and entered the Great Hall. However, on turning to the Slytherin table, she immediately spotted Theo sat with Draco, Crabbe and Goyle, all laughing loudly, and her heart sunk. If Theo mentioned choir, then her secret would be up.

She dithered at the door, considering whether to turn around now and head back to the common room. Her stomach protested at the thought of lasting until breakfast, but she’d skipped dinner at home a few times when Lucius had been in a particularly bad mood, and she knew it would settle down when she was away from the delicious smell of pumpkin soup.

She’d just turned to move back towards the door, when she glanced back one more time at the Slytherin table. Something she regretted immediately.

Out of all the luck in the world, Theo took that moment look up and catch her eye, a grin spreading on his face as he waved. Cursing inwardly, Astera reluctantly smiled back. She couldn’t leave now, it would be rude, and so she made her way over with a sigh.

“Where have you been?” was the first thing out of Draco’s mouth as she sat down on the bench next to him. “I haven’t seen you since class finished.”

Thinking on her feet, she quickly answered, “Some of us like to get a head start on our homework. I’ve been in the library.”

She glanced at Theo, who crinkled his brow like he was about to say something. She shot him a warning look and turned back to Draco.

“Oh,” the blond boy said absentmindedly, clearly already bored with the conversation.

However, the ever-jealous Pansy wasn’t about to leave it there.

“The library,” she scoffed. “Perhaps the Sorting Hat made a mistake with you. If you’re not careful, the Sorting Hat will realise it made a mistake and re-sort you into Ravenclaw with the rest of the know-it-alls, or even worse, in with the people-pleasing Hufflepuffs.”

Crabbe, Goyle and Zabini dissolved into laughter, and even Draco’s lips curled into his signature smirk.

Astera stared at Pansy. She could feel the insecurity rising within her. Pansy may have been stupid, but she certainly knew how to play people’s weaknesses. The thought of not being good enough to be in Slytherin was certainly Astera’s.

“Ignore them,” Theo said from her right, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Astera looked at him, fighting away tears. _She would not be weak._

“Thank you,” she said.

“How was it then?” he asked quietly. “The audition.”

“I think it went okay. There were no other Slytherins there, but that was probably a good thing.”

“I’m sure you’ll have done just fine,” Theo said encouragingly.

Astera smiled back at him, before helping herself to the pile of potatoes in front of her, suddenly feeling hungry.

“I may actually head to the library after dinner,” she said as she moved onto the chicken. “It is probably best to get a head start on some of this homework. Do you want to come? I could probably use some help on the Herbology essay.”

“Sure.” Theo’s smile came easily. “But only if you help me with the research for History of Magic.”

Astera laughed. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from a Slytherin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you to all who have shown interest so far! Sorry it's been so long since I updated, but, as usual, life got in the way. I'm excited we're finally getting into Hogwarts now, so hope you all enjoyed this chapter :) Let me know your thoughts!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, just a little note to say thank you for reading! This is the first time I've posted on here (although not my first fanfic), so I'd appreciate any comments on how to improve :)  
> I have a few chapters written of this, but will try and space out the updates so they're fairly regular and there isn't huge gaps!


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